By: Anna Louise Steig The overhead fan is buzzing like a mindless insect, and I am waiting for my boyfriend to twist on the water before I let my piss spray into the toilet bowl, hoping he won’t hear the…

By: Khemendra Kamal Sarwan was cremated three days ago. Tonight, a well-known singer came to sing kirtans. The makeshift shed was full of people. A group of women encircled Sarwan’s widow, who sat lifelessly. Men formed small circles around yagona…

By: Michael Gigandet Martin used his elbows and hips to work his way to the end of the line of 4th graders spread across the front of the classroom. At least he could delay the humiliation coming to him which…

By: Harvey Huddleston When people drink too much they sometimes think they see things clearly when they don’t.  Then when they stop drinking they might be able to see those things they were previously blind to.  By “blind to” I…

By: Ruth Deming O, Beatricee! The day has finally arrived. We knew it was coming, your battle with multiple myeloma.   At first, at our weekly meetings of “The Beehive,” named for you and your nearly inexhaustible knowledge of pollinators…

By: Alan Swyer What hurt Lenny Greene even more than his wife’s announcement that she was moving out less than six months after their twenty-fifth anniversary was the reason Betsy gave: “I finally found someone who makes me laugh.” For…

By: Anjali Paruvu  I cracked my knuckles out of boredom, even though I didn’t really know how you get the “crack” sound. I looked at Prerna on my left, who was either chanting a mantra or reading off formulas. I…

By K. A. Williams Her husband never cried. Not when his dog died. Not even when his grandmother died. Not ever. Paul was reading the newspaper and eating breakfast when the mailman shoved their mail through the slot. Liz picked…

By Eric Burbridge             Harris kicked up mosquitoes and rabbits scattered on his way through the high weeds on the side of the shed. He should be ashamed for such neglect. Marilyn mentioned it, but he ignored her. High winds…

By: Bruce Levine I accept who I am – I’m an empty bottle. Is that a metaphor for my life? I ask myself.             I’d just poured two glasses of wine for dinner and finished the bottle and, as I…